Stealing Apricorns
by Butterbean22
Summary: Kurt tells a story to a young trainer about his ancestors journey to beceoming the Champion of Johto.
1. Prologue- A Story is Told

Stealing Apricorns

_ A Pokemon Fan fiction _

Disclaimer: I do not in any way own Pokemon or any company/idea associated with it. I write purely for fun, and make no profit from this.

Chapter 1- A story is told

"Pokeballs weren't always the way they are now you know" Kurt said has he carved small flakes from the small fruit in his hand. He looked at the young Trainer who sat in the corner of workshop, determining whether the boy was paying attention. A somewhat confused looked was stretched across his face. "I mean they weren't always mass produced and cheap, so easily available. They use to be very rare and expensive. Expensive enough to steal, kidnap, and kill over."

The boy looked like he didn't quite believe the old timer who claimed to be whittling a pokeball from the strange spicy fruit he had plucked from a tree (which had tasted terrible). Now a-days pokeballs were common commodities. Hell, he even found them occasionally just laying in tall grass, the previous owner just too lazy to go looking for it. Why would anyone risk such crimes for pokeballs?

Kurt didn't miss the look plastered on the boys face. "Oh yes, quite rare back then. This was before all the great technology that we have recovered from the Dark Times of course, before mass assembly of those cheap imitations strapped to your belt there. When not every trainer could have and control six pokemon. Heck, most Trainers would have one or two only. It can be quite a challenge to raise multiple pokemon without pokeballs. And of course having pokemon was of the utmost import then."

The young trainer titled his head slightly, like a confused growlithe. Kurt chuckled to himself. "Why do you think people began Training in the first place? Pokemon are dangerous son, as I'm sure you know. But they were much more dangerous when people lived in much smaller communities, and new so little about them. That pokedex you have there has done much more than you may realize to save the life of many a person. With that, you can travel all over and know how to not anger a primape, or the weakness of a tyranitar, should you ever have the most unfortunate luck to meet one."

A dawning look of comprehension broke on the boys face, and then one of mild horror. He could imagine trying to fight off a tyranitar with only one pokemon, especially when you didn't know what it was!

"My family is one of the few that knew how to make pokeballs from apricorns like this one here. It was a greatly guarded secret back then. There was much honor and prestige to a family, clan and village than had pokeballs crafters. Not to mention money! Not so much now, thanks to those new fangled metal knockoffs. I simply do this now for the fun and tradition of it. Not that I'm bitter (much) about it. Those have helped advance humanity and save countless lives. There is actually a great family story about how important these little wondrous pokeballs use to be, if you'd like to hear it? It involves kidnap, battles, intrigue, a small bit of romance, and how my ancestor became the champion of Johto."

The boy nodded slowly, eyes wide. He grabbed a pokeball from his belt, and with a briefly blinding light released a small cyndaquil from its pokeball. The small pokemon sniffed the room for a few moments, flames banked low along its back, and the curled up on the lap of its Trainer, and both got comfortable in the plush cushion on the floor.

"Yes then?" Kurt laughed softly. "Well, it begins in this very town and in this very workshop actually. My ancestor, whom I am named after, as was my father before me, and him before his and so on, was just finishing his very first pokeball…."


	2. Chapter 1-Sweet Sweet Honey

Chapter 1- Sweet, Sweet Honey

The sun was just peaking over the horizon of the Ilex forest, casting the predawn sky of Azalea town a brilliantly bright green. Silence reigned over the still sleeping village, except for a soft scraping sound that could be heard emanating from a workshop attached to a thatched roofed house nestled against the side of the great forest. Inside this house sat a young man of fifteen; my many greats grandfather Kurt, carving his first fully functional pokeball.

What did he look like? Well, I can only imagine being as I never met him, but like most of the men in our family I would think. Rather on the short side, most likely dark black hair, shoulder length as was the style then; a thin, wiry body from living in much harder times than now with soft grey eyes and a somewhat thin mouth. Much like me in my youth I would say. Anyways, he was just doing the finishing touches on his first working pokeball, made from a spicy smelling green apricorn like the one you gave me. A Friend ball as my family names it, as it makes the pokemon caught much more friendly to the Trainer than would normally happen with a feral pokemon.

And so, with the completed Friend ball finally in hand, young Kurt raced to show his grandfather his finished work and to seek his permission to catch his very first pokemon. If you're wondering what he looked like, just imagine me and I'm sure you'd be close to right. Old, wrinkled, and long white hair.

Kurt burst into the house, practically hurling the Friend ball at his grandfather's head in his excitement to have it examined. With the ease of long practice, it was snatched from the air by the old man with barely a glance. Kurt waited anxiously as it was examined by his grandfather with meticulous detail. Finally, as a cold sweat had just begun to appear on young Kurt's brow, his grandfather's face broke into a happy and proud smile. "This will catch a pokemon." He simply said.

Kurt's heart nearly exploded from joy as he jumped forward and snatched the ball from the exasperated old timer. "Thanks Gramps! I'll be back later, where's the Honey?" He yelled as he raced through the house gathering gear for his first hunt. Old Kurt hid a small smile at his grandson's antics, remembering his first ball and his first pokemon.

"In the cupboard like always I'd imagine. Don't forget to take Lenny with you!" Gramps yelled out as he pulled a blue pokeball from his robes. Kurt raced by in a blur and the ball was gone as he passed, saying "Thanks again Gramps!" as he slammed the door behind him on his way out. Kurt sped along the worn trail among the tall grass he'd created staking out his preferred hunting spot; the tallest oak tree along the edge of the Ilex forest.

Kurt had spent months laying among the grasses, observing the pokemon that inhabited the area. Pineco hung from great branches, and pidgey flew over head looking for caterpie or weedles. A few spinarak were spinning webs and skiplooms and hoppip bounced around the field surrounding the great tree. But Kurt had only one pokemon in his sights, a very specific one.

A female heracross called this tree home. A very strong heracross, if the distance that Kurt had seen it toss a pinsir was any indication. The young trainer looked up into the sky, judging the hour by the sun. "Should be about another hour till she's up" he murmured to himself. He settled down into the grass to avoid the other wild pokemon, he didn't want to spook his target away.

Once Kurt had judged that 30 minutes had passed, he snapped open the pokeball his grandfather had given him. The white light sprang out and quickly coalesced into the form of Lenny, an old but very strong slowbro his grandfather had raised in his younger years. Lenny slowly blinked his wide eyes, and looked over to Kurt. "Slow?" it asked.

"Ok Lenny, what I need you to do is take this honey pot and use psychic to pour it onto the base of the tree over there, got it?" The slowbro looked into Kurt's eyes for a few moments before slowly nodding and saying "…bro." Lenny's eyes lit up with a violet purple light as a similar light surrounded and lifted the honey pot from Kurt's hands. As Lenny turned to face his target, the honey pot drifted slowly towards the tree. A few pokemon looked at the floated pot curiously none of them panicked and raised an alarm. As the pot floated to base of the tree, it tipped onto its side and the honey poured on the bark of the tree in a thick coat. As soon as the pot was empty, Lenny gave a small groan as the light faded from his eyes and the honey pot fell quietly onto the soft grass.

"Great job Lenny. In a little bit were going to get into a fight, so don't be surprised ok?" The slowbro nodded again as Kurt retuned him to the pokeball. Getting onto his belly, Kurt began to inch his was closer to the tree. After a few minutes, he was within throwing distance of where he knew where the heracross would be. "It should only take a few more minutes for the heracross to notice the smell of the honey."

A shake of the tree limbs and a dull thud as something heavy fell onto the ground alerted Kurt to his quarry. A soft sucking and scraping sound let him know it was the time. Sucking in a deep breath and grabbing onto Lenny's pokeball tightly, Kurt jumped from the tall grass and let Lenny fly as he yelled "Heracross, you're mine!"


End file.
